


Sometimes

by robzisapanda



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: (more in later chapters though), Depression, Eventual Smut, Existential Crisis, Fluff, LOTS of comforting, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Triggers, eating disorder (kind of), general sadness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:59:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4080496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robzisapanda/pseuds/robzisapanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Dan wishes he was nothing. Sometimes he wants to be alone and stare at the rain. Sometimes Dan does bad things to himself. Sometimes Dan hates himself. Sometimes Dan just wants to cry but he would never.<br/>Sometimes, sometimes is always. And Sometimes, sometimes is never.</p><p>But then one day Dan realises that Sometimes he needs Phil</p><p>Or another fluffy mess of words in which Dan is really sad and Phil doesn't notice until it's impossible not to.<br/>Trigger Warning</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Sometimes Dan sits like this. His long legs somehow folded up onto the window seat with his pointed elbows wrapping them up as he stares out at the rain staining the window's glass that radiated the icy tendrils wrapping around Phil's too big hoodie but not able to penetrate to Dan's warm body. Not that he would feel the cool fingers if they had anyway. At that moment he was everywhere and nowhere at once and felt nothing.  
Because you have to understand that Dan was "happy". He had an amazing job, hell he had two amazing jobs, his friends all supported everything he ever did, his family were relentless with their messages of love and pride and his best friend and boyfriend was the absolute best person in the world. Dan loved what he had. But sometimes he didn't feel it all. Sometimes he wished he was one of those fleeting raindrops rather than this only slightly less temporary being.  
Sometimes he would sit at this window and stare and listen and absorb and be. And sometimes he would just sit and think about everything and anything and nothing. But right now Dan didn't want any of that. He didn't want to think or feel or hear or see or absorb or be. He just wanted to be a raindrop without worries or pressures or life. So he sat and did that. He let himself feel the raindrops and the cold and the wet while really he was feeling nothing, he was thinking nothing, he was experiencing nothing because maybe if he ignored all the somethings for long enough, he would stop being something. He would finally be nothing.


	2. Tired

Sometimes Phil notices that Dan seems a bit off. Today is one of those days. Phil had watched Dan roll out of their bed this morning seemingly on autopilot. From bed to sofa he had shuffled while staring at the phone he didn't even bother to unlock. 

"Bear?" Dan only glanced up from his laptop at Phil with a blank stare before he smiled and the light that Phil knew and loved, the light that was Phil's everything shone from behind his brown eyes.  
They would spend their morning on a day like this curled up on the sofa side by side, laptops warming their thighs while images flashed on the television screen. And like this, it was easier for Phil to pretend that the light in Dan's eyes, wasn't duller than yesterday. 

Sometimes this happened. Dan would retreat into his box. Phil hadn't seen his box emerge for some time though. When Dan did escape into there though, Phil always felt as though there were three world's between the two of them rather than three inches.

Right now though Dan was extending this gap. To a distance Phil was having problems trying to ignore. To a distance that forced him to worry.  
He hadn't felt the need to worry about Dan for over a year. Of course those trivial worries every time Dan was trapped in bed with a cold, or whenever he awoke to those six missed calls or text messages, or even, ridiculous as it seems, every time Dan ventured into the world outside without him never left him and reminding himself that Dan wasn't an 18 year old in Manchester for the first time alone, but a capable 23 year old in London didn't always assure him. But the bad memories of when they first met had faded to the point where Phil would have to trace his fingers across those faded lines, of course only when Dan was asleep, to even really know they were still there.

But this distance, a distance, physical or mental, that he refused to allow usually after spending so long separate from Dan, worried him. It wrapped its stiff fingers around his throat, constricting his breathing and creating a slightly panicked haze in his head. 

So lost in his own thoughts he could neither absorb nor dwell on the quiet voice now spilling into the room. Not until an emotion filled it that enclosed Phil's thoughts in a glass ball- a very fragile, very breakable space.

"Phil?" His voice was quiet but cut through the silence that Phil was lost in.

"Mhm" without even glancing up Phil's entire being was focused on Dan and they both knew that. Phil couldn't bear to look at him though. He couldn't bear to have his worries confirmed-not yet. When Dan paused for a long silent moment though, Phil's eyes followed his attention and he took in the sight before him.  
He had never understood how Dan could make himself seem so small with his long limbs and wider frame but with his laptop resting beside him now and his legs pulled up to his chest while he seemed to curl around them, he had never seemed so tiny.

When Phil saw the dampness in Dan's eyes he then felt the smallness of Dan in another way. A way he thought Dan didn't feel anymore.

"Oh sweetheart." Instantly Phil's laptop was shoved to the end of the couch and he was wrapping his arms around Dan's smaller figure.  
Dan's body didn't move, he didn't react except to sigh out slightly as Phil tightened his arms.

"I'm really really tired Phil. Like the kind of tired I don't know how to fix... And I'm..I'm scared of it." His voice hitched slightly on the last sentence that tumbled from his mouth.

"Dan,baby...I wish. I wish you never had to feel this way. Okay, come on. I think it's time for some coffee." Phil could feel Dan's reluctance to move as he tugged his hand and pulled him to his feet. He led the way to the kitchen and sat Dan down as he felt the coolness of the tiled floor slowly seep through his body. When he saw Dan tighten his hoodie around his frame, Phil suddenly recognised the reduction in Dan's size. He frowned down into the coffee tin and instantly every thought he'd had over the past 3 months that could have distracted him from Dan's diminishing body flew through his brain, battling to capture his attention and forcing tears to his eyes. At least that's the reason he let himself believe.

When did he stop being Dan's Always? What kind of friend, boyfriend, person was he to allow this to slip past his endless list of observations and notes and analyses of Dan? How can he get his Dan back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is chapter 1! This is kind of a stewing idea and I'm not entirely certain where I'm going to go with it yet but I know what I'm doing for the next couple of chapters so prepare for a time jump next weekend.
> 
> Again, I'd love opinions and comments (whatever they may be) and thank you so so much for reading. See you soon  
> :) xx


	3. Hungry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too sure about this chapter, I think I like it but the end kind of got away from away. Chasing was entirely useless...  
> But I do hope you enjoy it, the way that I'm writing this to explain it all is a bit different and there are a lot of time jumps (which I don't tell you about sorry. I kind of expect you to be able to pick up on it yourself (; )
> 
> So please do leave comments or kudos etc if you'd like to and maybe check out my instagram (@robzisapanda) where I will post about updates for immediate notification. 
> 
> Have a fabulous day x

Sometimes Phil hates technology. When the phone starts ringing Phil considers ignoring the reaching out, in fact he’s feeling quite serious about leaving it to ring for as long as the inconclusive person on the other end wishes for it to do so but he realises that it is not what a “responsible adult”, his mother’s words not his, would say. And so he drags himself, limb by limb from the warmth of his blanket shelter and shivers as the iciness of the wooden floorboards below his feet swiftly course to the fingers now wrapping around his bare torso. Blearily, with minimal stumbling, he manages to reach the phone and as he’s reaching for it, yawning, silence suddenly greets him. He stares at the offensive object for at least a minute before realising the heinous act of that inconclusive, now incredibly rude, person on the other end and turns to start the indignant stomping of his return to the safety of his bed. As he lifts a foot the shrill ringing starts up again and he groans audibly into the empty apartment before he spins and retrieves the phone, almost sending a stack of envelopes to the floor as he does. 

“What?!” He doesn’t mean to sound rude and impatient in his answer but he’s tired. He is tired and cold and just wants to go back to bed and then maybe phone Dan later and watch a movie over the phone together again.

“Um- hello? Hello. Is this- is this Phil?” The feminine voice washing through the speakers is soft but broken - a mix of words, sobs and general gasping. 

In an instant Phil feels her sadness himself, he has no clue who this woman is, how she knows his name or why she is sharing her heartbreak with him of all people.

“Yes. This is Phil. I’m sorry is-“

“Oh God, thank God. I found you,” her voice immediately echoes over his and he allows his response to die with a whimper in his throat as her tears intensify in his ear, “I’m Dan’s mother.”

Immediately Phil’s whole body froze. The cold from the naked floorboards, still seeping through his feet was nothing in comparison to the absolute frigidness that immobilised his body now. 

“Phil, Dan’s been- I don’t quite know how to say and-“her voice was cracked and it did nothing to ease Phil’s mind as his throat tightened and he felt tears prick at his eyes, “Maybe you should- I think maybe you should come here. He would want me to call you. We’re at the hospital in-“ 

That was when Phil’s emotions left him entirely. His body frozen, his throat constricted and his mind unable to form a sentence as she murmured the address and Phil murmured an affirmative. Both trapped in their murmured cage of heartbreak.

When she hung up Phil operated on autopilot. He knew rather than felt that he was putting on shoes and a jacket, still clad in blue sweatpants with a ketchup stain on the knee. He knew rather than felt himself stepping outside, phone in one hand and wallet in the other. He knew rather than felt the easy way in which he could ignore the strange stares he was receiving as he hailed a taxi and knew rather than felt his surprise at finally being able to do that. Not feeling the embarrassment or fear of attention. He knew rather than felt that 57 minutes later he was handing over a lot of money and he was walking up to a desk in the white clinical misery-filled ominous truly terrifying prison of Death. 

The simple statement of “Dan Howell?” sent him up to the third floor, wing B. A similar looking woman there gave him a sympathetic and then was pointing to a small group of people sitting in the corner of a similar looking waiting room on similar looking metal chairs with green cushions. A man with dark hair, head bowed under sadness and a life of working too hard with one arm around the shoulders of a boy curled -a ball of a boy rather than a boy himself, all sharp angles pointing out and lanky legs that were yet to grow and mussed light brown hair that he didn’t need to straighten but did anyway because his big brother did and shaking whimpers. The man’s other hand stretched out to encase a pale hand of slim fingers and mint green nail polish, her favourite apparently, that linked to a being that radiated sadness. A being that Phil understood in a way that he never thought he would be able to. A being that shook with misery and loss. A being whose sadness made Phil feel again. As he reached the small group the man’s eyes flickered open and his hand tightened around pale white and mint green and suddenly chocolate brown was meeting icy blue and Phil was seeing Dan’s eyes in real life for the first time and they weren’t in Dan’s face and that pushed Phil to embrace this woman he had never met before as she stood and soon she was hugging back and his shirt was getting wet and so was hers and he was murmuring “I’m sorry”s into her hair and she was shaking her head and murmuring “it’s okay”s back into his shoulder and again they were trapped in the murmuring cage and he wasn’t sure if he felt better or if he felt worse sharing it physically with someone.

Bland hospital coffee, introductions, tears and more murmuring is shared until Adrian slips into sleep and Phil feels tears again as he is told that  
Dan hasn’t eaten for nearly four days they think  
Four days  
Yes, we didn’t even notice  
Why would he do that though  
Why would he do that to you  
To me  
To himself  
Why can’t he see

Phil spends another hour thinking the best thing that has ever happened to him is gone and then he is told that he isn’t and then tears are shed some more and then he is sitting alone as “family only I’m afraid” and then he is still sitting in stained sweatpants and one black and one red Converse and he’s been holding the same lukewarm, now ice, coffee for nearly an hour and he’s numb again.

When Adrian is led out with tear tracks and tired eyes by an equally tired hunched figure and blue eyes are smiling at him, he is gripped again. Sadness and happiness mixed into a strange blend of contrasts and he is saying goodbye. Phil feels his own body slow as the sounds in the hospital drift along through corridors and he wonders about sadness and happiness twisting together, light and dark, warm and cold, trailing after every person wandering through, sitting still, trapped, running away-free. He feels every emotion travel with those soft sounds and he allows himself to do so. To allow every small piece of feeling in that large hospital wash through him and fill his own body. He leans back, content to ignore the cold tendrils creeping along his skin and the weight of the cardboard cup and the press of the worry that, despite reassurances, will not allow him respite.

But then mint green brushes his cheek and his eyes are opening to warm brown and sad smiles and he is being led down a bright corridor that he feels should be dark because the only light is that figure that looks up shocked as he is gently pushed through a swinging door. And the smiles that fill the room are so much brighter than any hospital fluorescents or even summer sun. 

Phil feels every emotion in the world at that moment as he collapses onto the crying boy. Mixing their tears together as he allows each emotion to fill him before he pushes them all out to feel only the happiness and warmth of this beautiful person in front of, under, around and inside him. He feels Dan’s entirety wrap him in a shelter of warmth and he doesn’t need his blankets, or his matching shoes, or the protection from people’s strange stares or even clean sweatpants and coffee to wake him up because he has this beautiful, broken being in his life.

~

As he turns back to the tired, quiet Dan that was living on a planet lightyears away from him with two mugs of steaming coffee weighing down his arms and sees the diminishing form of Dan wrapped in Phil’s hoodie that was suddenly far too big, he is thrown back to the real day they met. Not that beautiful train station “meeting” but the shared sobs and secrets and insecurities in a hospital bed while Dan’s mum went home to quickly change her clothes. The day when Dan has cried through his believed description of his own body and screwed up mind that Phil had spent the past 6 years eradicating entirely. Those thoughts that Phil had unthreaded from Dan’s being with kisses and soft whispers and caresses and woven into an entirely different form to show Dan the damage they could do before burning it and forcing them both to forget they had ever been there.

“Oh Sunshine, how about we go get into bed with these and have a chat?” Chocolate brown flickers up and meets icy blue and suddenly today is then again and Phil feels everything as the beautiful, cracked being allows a small smile and nods. “Shall I bring some biscuits, love?”

As Dan’s body freezes they both know that Phil knows and Dan dissolves into sobs again. That’s the moment Phil knows this isn’t just cracking of the beauty he thought he had helped to fix. This was complete destruction. As he looks on at the beautiful boy slipping to the ground and coffee mugs are suddenly on the counter and they are a tangled mess of tears and murmuring again, Phil is back in that cage and he knows: he has company again.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is another one of those needy angsty fluffy things that I thought of a while ago. It will be chaptered and this is just the prologue. I will be uploading chapter 1 tomorrow. Also, I post all of these on Wattpad too, under the name dreamlesswanderer.  
> Okay, I'd love opinions, as usual, and look forward to writing this. It should be updated twice a week but I am in my last year of high school and may have to cut down to one update a week later in the year.
> 
> Mad love to you all  
> :) xx


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